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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666983">Uh, Sam</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller'>craterdweller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargate SG-1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Season/Series 10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:15:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack gets a surprise when he opens his closet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trope Bingo: Round Fifteen</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Uh, Sam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set during Season 10 at Jack's cabin in Minnesota.</p>
<p>Trope Bingo Round 15: Fluff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack maneuvered through the darkened cabin by memory, despite the months-long absence necessitated by his work in D.C. Avoiding the floorboard that always squeaked, he scanned the front room for any sign of Sam. Nothing. Swallowing his disappointment, he checked his cell as he made his way down the short hallway. No messages. SG-1 hadn’t been scheduled to go off-world for the rest of the month so he wasn’t overly concerned—Sam often got caught up with experiments in her lab. He tossed his jeans and t-shirt in the direction of the hamper. Usually, and for Sam’s sake, he would make an effort, but tonight he was too exhausted to care. He flopped down onto the bed and was asleep in seconds.</p>
<p><br/>Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.</p>
<p><br/>Jack groaned and rolled over onto his back. He’d forgotten how annoying woodpeckers could be during the Minnesota winter. He reached over to Sam’s side of the bed. The sheets were ruffled and still slightly warm but, it was also empty. He rubbed a hand over his face. He was still a bit tired, but nothing like last night. He heard Sam rummaging around in the kitchen. She must be making coffee. It was about the only thing they would let her cook. He smiled and reached for the clothes he’d thrown towards the hamper last night and came up empty. Sam must’ve picked them up. He frowned. He didn’t want to be “that guy”. <em>I’ll make it up to her by cooking my special omelet</em>. He sniffed. Right after he took a shower.</p>
<p><br/>Grabbing a pair of boxers from the dresser, he took a quick shower but skipped the shave. Sam mentioned once that she found his scruff kinda sexy. Still grinning when he reached his closet, he froze in confusion. His spare pair of dress blues hung just where Jack had left them the last time he was at the cabin, but the rest of the clothes were unfamiliar. He pulled a blue shirt out of the closet. Then a green—then a black. Setting the shirts down on the bed, he yanked out a pair of jeans. These were not his old, comfortable, ones that he’d owned for years. He scanned the rest of the closet. If Sam’s clothes hadn’t hung on her two-thirds of the rod, he would have thought he was in the wrong cabin. He peered into the hamper. Empty. He rummaged through a dresser drawer, but instead of finding his faded old t-shirts and sweats, there were more stacks of new clothes. He scratched his head. Absorbed in trying to figure out this mystery, he didn’t hear Sam enter the room.</p>
<p><br/>“Morning, sleepyhead.”</p>
<p><br/>She shoved him playfully onto the bed and Jack forgot all about the wardrobe mystery. Not that he objected.</p>
<p><br/>Afterward, as Sam snuggled against him tracing stargate addresses on his chest, he remembered the strange state of his closet.</p>
<p><br/>“Uh, Sam. Whose clothes are hanging in the closet?” <em>Please don’t tell me they are Mitchell’s or worse, some other schmuck like that cop.</em></p>
<p><br/>Sam looked at him like he had grown a new head. “What do you mean, whose clothes? I’ve had most of those clothes for years.”</p>
<p><br/>“No, I know that. I mean, the others.” He waved a hand in the direction of the closet.</p>
<p><br/>When Sam remained silent, he glanced over at her. She was chewing her bottom lip wearing the most adorable look.</p>
<p><br/>“Don’t be mad.”</p>
<p><br/>A vision of alien doohickeys gone wild traipsed through his brain. He brushed the thought aside. <em>Why would an alien artifact replace his clothes?</em> So engrossed in his musings, he almost missed her answer.</p>
<p><br/>“You know that General Landry had SG-1 up here for some team building?”</p>
<p><br/>Sam was stalling. This must be good.</p>
<p><br/>“Well, one night, it was rather chilly, and Vala hadn’t packed anything warm, so she borrowed one of your sweatshirts.”</p>
<p><br/>Jack nodded again, but Sam was looking at him like he should be able to piece the rest together. As usual, he didn’t have a clue. “Okay, so, therefore…”</p>
<p><br/>Sam ran her fingers over the hem of the covers, refusing to meet his gaze. She mumbled, “I didn’t want your sweatshirt smelling like her.”</p>
<p><br/>Jack blinked. <em>Did Sam just say she was jealous of Vala because she had worn one of his sweatshirts?</em> That explained one shirt, but the entire wardrobe? He raised an eyebrow in her direction for more clarification.</p>
<p><br/>Fingers curled tight around the sheet she continued, “Vala dragged me to the mall the other day, and when she saw me looking at men’s sweatshirts she asked why you hid such a yummy body in “saggy” clothes?”</p>
<p><br/>What? ‘I, uh, what?”</p>
<p><br/>“Well she meant baggy, but she was right. Why are all your clothes, at least two sizes too big?”</p>
<p><br/>Jack shrugged. “I just grab something off the rack. Sarah used to do all the shopping.” He closed his eyes. <em>Yup, he was still “that guy”.</em> “I’m sorry, Sam.”</p>
<p><br/>Sam wrapped him in a tight hug. “Oh, Jack. You have no reason to be sorry. I wanted to do something nice for you because you are always too busy taking care of everyone else. If you hate them, I can take them back …”</p>
<p><br/>Jack brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You really picked all these out for me?”</p>
<p><br/>Sam nodded shyly.</p>
<p><br/>Jack strode over to the closet and tugged on a pair of black button fly jeans. They fit him like a glove. <em>But wouldn’t he look silly in these?</em> He swallowed and risked a look at Sam. Her pupils were dilated, her lips were parted, and she was staring at his ass.</p>
<p><br/>“Uh, Sam?”</p>
<p><br/>She tackled him to the bed again. <em>Okay, maybe these new clothes weren’t so bad.</em></p>
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